


Sweet Sixteen

by ryanhasao3



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Bisexual Edward Elric, Edward Elric Swears, Fluff, Fuhrer Roy Mustang, Implied/Referenced Underage Relationship(s), M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 13:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14672253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanhasao3/pseuds/ryanhasao3
Summary: Ed's sixteenth birthday would go down in history books, if only as the day he got Al to swearORRoy and Ed had been mutually pining over each other but neither wanted to make a move because Ed was underage. Ed is now 16 and too drunk for his own good





	Sweet Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> Be kind to me, this is my first attempt at writing for AO3. And, honestly, first real attempt at fluff. Excuse me if I make any canonical errors (outside the lack of Roy's blindness, I decided to exclude that for the benefit of the fluff) and this isn't beta-ed, so let me know if there are any mistakes and I'll correct them.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Ed couldn't remember the last time he'd drunk that much, or if he ever had. His sixteenth birthday would go down in history books, if only as the day he got Al to swear (although it was only 'crap', not really an actual curse in Ed's books).

Either way, he was now stood at the edge of the pavement outside Central Command, trying to convince himself the floor wasn't actually swaying while staring unnecessarily hard at the iron gates in front of him.

He wasn't even 100% sure what he was doing here. All he could remember was laughing at the sight of the new Fuhrer glaring at him as he proved to Mei he could still walk on his hands drunk. In all fairness, Mustang had caught his ankles when he nearly collapsed on top of him, saving them both the embarrassment. Didn't stop a glare painting his face at the edge of the road at 2.a.m. when he thought back on the events.

"Fuhrer Bastard always... flaming up," he muttered to himself before cracking up at the previously unintended pun.

Once he'd finished choking on his drunken giggles, Ed lifted the bottle still in his hand and finished it before dropping it and smirking again at the loud shatter echoing through the empty streets.  _Fuck you, Mustang,_ he thought to himself as he stared at the shards of glass scattered around his feet.  _You can clean that up when you grace the new Command with your presence. Poor fuckers._

Hands finally free, Ed stretched out his arms and staggered forward before leaning against the cold metal bars of the gates, finding relief in the low temperature against his heated cheeks. Alcohol had a warming effect on him.

Ed closed his eyes, sighing loudly as he tried to keep up with his own thoughts, reconsidering the events that had led to his arrival outside these frosty pillars at stupid o'clock.

What had happened? Right, Fuhrer Bastard caught his ankles. Then he dropped them with a cruel smirk, watching Ed fall on his neck. That explains the dull ache of his muscles, he realises, he'd forgotten.

He'd fallen. At Mustang's feet. He'd staggered to his own, glared at the elder ( _much elder_ , he sniggered to himself) and stormed out, pausing only to grab a half-empty bottle of God knows what.

Was that everything? Probably. Everything important to explain to himself his current situation, knuckles gripping tightly around the cold bars in an attempt to hold himself up.

"Fullmetal?"

Ed's eyes shot open and he immediately let go of the gate. Turning in the direction of the unmistakable voice, Ed attempted to look as miserably sober as his counterpart, back straight and left arm betraying him as he gave a shaky - if entirely sarcastic - salute.

"Nice to..." Ed swallows, vision blurring for a second. "Nice to see you at this hour, Your Royal Highness."

He sniggered again at his pure wit and hilarity before coughing and waiting for an answer. None came, Mustang remained frozen on the other side of the road, watching him in shocked... well, shock. Ed considered he looked shocked that he was shocked, which made another small giggle hiccup out of him.

Mustang started moving as though he'd battled with some impossible dilemma in his head before doing so. He stalked over to Ed, glanced down at him and tightened his lips in a grimace.  _Rude,_ Ed thought to himself. _Considering the circumstances, I don't look nearly as shitty as I could've done._

"Fullmetal," he repeated, pausing for a second before continuing. "Be honest with me, how many drinks have you had? Someone of your... stature should be careful about alcohol."

"Fuck you," Ed slurred loudly. "Fuck knows, but my Perfectly Normal Height has nothing to do with anything." He turned his back on Mustang and leaned back into the cold bars, again sighing quietly with relief. "Just came to..."

"To remember." Ed held his breath at the un-Mustang nature of talking. "I do that too sometimes. Surprised it was your choice of destination in your current state of inebriation, Edward."

He raised his eyebrows in response, although the dark combined with the direction of his face stopped him from passing on the message. "What happened... What happened to the, uh, formalities?" Ed coughed out, slurring gently as he attempted to pull away from the bars and found he'd tangled his stupid hair in one of the hinges, which just happened to be at head-level.

Mustang smiled and reached out a hand to pull Ed from the railings, smirking at his involuntary squeak of pain as he felt hairs being torn from his scalp. "I don't think this is a particularly formal situation. Now, come on. Everyone's left now and Madam Christmas insists there's no room for you. I offered to take you in overnight."

"Fuck that!" Ed shouted, unnecessarily loudly. "I'll stay with Al and Winry."

"Need I remind you, Edward, that your party included some guests who may not have homes available? Your brother offered to house them, and now there's barely any room," Mustang explained, reminding Ed of Mei, Ling and the others while ignoring the fiery death-glare he received from him at the use of his name. "I offered. Stop being so... argumentative. Would you rather stay in a packed room full of other intoxicated youths?"

Ed sniggered at the pause before he imitated in consideration. Did he really want to put up with Mustang for a whole night? "You gonna tuck me in?" he smirked, grinning widely at the only-just-visible tint on his cheeks.

"I thought the whole point of tonight was proving you're not a child, Edward? What would be the purpose?"

"No harm in a little... in innocent comfort now and again."

"Do you need comforting?"

A long pause stretched between the two of them as Ed considered a sense of something he hadn't felt before. Every conversation he'd had with the Colonel ( _Fuhrer_ , he reminded himself) had been underplayed by anger or frustration or occasionally quiet sympathy. There was something... new. Maybe he was drunk and misinterpreting the situation. Or maybe he was right. Maybe Mustang had initiated something new here.

Ed glared at him before staggering forward.  _Not a chance in Hell is there anything like that,_ he thinks.  _Fuhrer Bastard feels the same for me know as he always has. Sympathy for the poor child he had to put up with day-in, day-out. Fuck him and his condescension._

"Edward, slow down," Mustang warned, catching up to his clumsy staggers in two easy paces. "Let me help you, my place is easily a few blocks from here."

"Fuck off, Mustang."

* * *

"Make yourself at home, Edward. Do you want anything? Water? Food?"

Ed scoffed as he gripped the door frame and held himself up, staring around the room at Mustang's humble abode. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd expected, but this definitely wasn't it. The bastard even had fucking art on the wall in the main room. He would've expected... well, different to this.

"Edward?"

"I'm never one to turn down food," Ed answered, turning to look at him. "But honestly I couldn't fucking hurl at any second, I don't wanna risk it."

A silence ran between them as Mustang sighed and turned to walk into what Ed could only assume was the kitchen. He followed slowly, leaning against the entryway to watch as Mustang pulled off his jacket and reached up to grab a mixing bowl off the top of one of the cabinets.

The elder unexpectedly shirked and dropped the bowl before hitting himself in the face causing Ed to laugh almost hysterically at the sight of the new Fuhrer panicking over a spider. "Wow Mustang, I would've thought that after all your experience in... in wars and the revolution, you would've, uh, you know, not fucking screamed at a spider."

His comment was met with sarcastic glares as Mustang slammed a glass upside down over the arachnid before it could run away. "I'm gonna go take this out. You sure you don't want tea or coffee, Edward?" He glanced at Ed over his shoulder as he quickly slipped a plate under the glass so he could transport it outside.

"No."

Mustang nodded and turned to walk out the building, leaving Ed stood alone and swaying in the kitchen.

There was definitely something different here that he hadn't recognised before.  _If only I had my fucking alchemy,_ Ed thought as he stared after the Fuhrer.  _I'd show the bastard he can't affect me._

Ed staggered back into the main room and looked at the painting on the wall. Of all the things in this place, that was the most Mustang. A picture of a normal city street, people going about their day and ignoring the fiery streaks of flame in the sky. Ed sniggered. Trust Mustang to like art showing people ignoring fire.

The bastard made him jump coming back in, soaked head to toe and hair dripping. "It's started raining pretty heavy."

"Yeah I can see that," Ed remarked while smirking. "Great time of night for- what the fuck are you doing?"

Ed stared at the Fuhrer as he stripped himself of his shirt and pushed a hand through his wet hair. "Getting dry. Why, you got a problem, Edward?" That fucking smirk again as the bastard stalked towards the kitchen, bent down to pick up his jacket and pulled his gloves from the pocket before dropping his wet clothes on the counter.

"No, I just... No. You can't use alchemy when it's raining, idiot."

"The gloves didn't get wet, did they? Sorry in advance if you get some of the spare heat," Mustang smirked as he carefully pulled the gloves on and clicked his fingers. Ed's mouth dropped open in surprise as the Fuhrer dried his fair with steaming fingers, surprised he could even control flames that minimal. "Edward?"

"Yeah?" Ed stood in shock and felt himself turning red.  _Just hormones,_ he told himself.  _Just hormones, aggravated by the alcohol._

"Can you move? I want to put the fire on," he smirked, gesturing at the fireplace behind Ed.

"I don't know, can I?"

Mustang frowned and Ed realised he'd only really answered half the question. "I mean, I can... I can put the fire on. I'm closer."

"As much as I admire our enthusiasm for keeping my home warm, I think it'll be easier and quicker if you just step aside. One of the people in this room still has alchemy, and even when you had yours you know full well you could never figure out flame alchemy. Now, Edward, move out the way so I can put on the fire in this seriously cold room." Ed glared at him and stepped to the side to watch as Mustang clicked his fingers again and shot out flames at the space beside him, feeling heat rush past.

"It's not my fault I don't have alchemy anymore," Ed muttered. "If I hadn't traded it, Al wouldn't have a body. The armour was rejecting his soul." He feels noticeably soberer than he had before and grits his teeth as he turned around and fumbles with the zipper on his own jacket.

"That's not what I was saying and you know that. Despite your height, you're not a child anymore. You're perfectly capable of protecting yourself even without alchemy. But in the matter of starting fires, I am better," Mustang responded, still stood shirtless in the kitchen doorway. Shucking off his jacket and dropping it, Ed turned back to him and sensed that same unrecognizable emotion coming from the Fuhrer.  _What the hell is that?_ he thought with furrowed eyebrows as he watched Mustang staring him down with an odd glint in his eye.

"What? What are you doing, Mustang?" he asked, earning equally furrowed brows.

"I'm not doing anything, Edward."

"Yes, you are. What is this? Honestly? Because I'm sensing something... something, you know, different. Tell me what's happened," he demands, standing as tall as he can when directing the  _still shirtless_ Fuhrer of Amestris.

"I..." For the first time in his life, Ed was seeing Mustang stumble over his words. He saw a familiar blush creep over the bastard's cheeks and suddenly felt guilty for asking.

The Fuhrer coughed and shook his head. "I don't think this is an appropriate conversation for right now."

"Why not?" Ed pushed.

"Because you're drunk and I don't want to be accused of manipulating you," he sighed, clearly exasperated. "You're not a child anymore but you're still younger than me, and I'm your superior. And you're drunk."

Ed blinked in surprise at the answer. "Mustang-"

"Roy. This is my home. Call me Roy," he interrupted, taking a step towards him.

"Roy. What the fuck are you saying? Cuz I'm not that much younger, and I'm not that drunk anymore. So I think this is a great time for this talk. Whatever the fuck this is."

Mustang closed his eyes for a second and sighed unnecessarily loud - not like him. "Okay, Edward-"

"Ed," he smirks.

Mustang takes the chance to glare back. "Edward. I'll talk about this if you want but if you decide you don't want to stay anymore, please let me take you to Al. Don't go staggering off on your own."

"You're being... dramatic," Ed comments, gaining another exasperated sigh.

"And I don't want you to think I'm manipulating you because of my position. As your superior."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Ed said sarcastically, choking a laugh at the glare.

"I'm serious, Edward. I could risk my career having this conversation, so I don't want you to feel..." He trailed off, uncertain of the words.

"Threatened?" Ed suggested, starting to get worried.  _Maybe I should stop this. Now, before it gets serious. Maybe I don't want to know._ "Look, uh, Roy, if you don't want to talk, I'm not gonna make you. I know we don't exactly get on but I'm not gonna fucking force you to talk about something you could fucking lose your job over. Didn't realise it was so serious or I wouldn't have-"

"I think I'm in love with you."

Silence. Echoes of silence ran between them. Ed blinked and coughed and blinked again. He glanced at the fire blazing under the painting and then looked back at the fire blazing on Mustang's face. "You..." Ed unclenched his tightened fist and glanced over the shirtless, unexpectedly emotional man in front of him.  _What the fuck? In love with me? But that would mean..._

Ed thought back over the events of the last couple years. Mustang's fearful eyes whenever Ed got himself injured. The relief playing across his face when he realised the injury was just to his automail. The concern when he rushed in after hearing Ed's pained groans when Winry reconnected the replacement automail to his nerves. The staring. The... everything.  _Could he be telling the truth? The fucking Fuhrer of Amestris is... in love with Edward Elric?_

"I'm sorry," Mustang continued after the long uncomfortable pause. "You're not an easy person to ignore."

"Why have you ever... What... Why now?" Ed asked quietly, taking pity on him and ignoring his own rush of emotions at the news. He'd just gotten over that stupid, pathetic crush and now this?  _I spend years pining over you, you bastard. Now, once I've managed to ignore, you're in love with me?_

"What?" Mustang replied. Fuck, had he said that out loud? Or was his voice just too quiet?

"Why now?" Ed repeated, hoping that was the question he'd been asked for.

"Because you're... you were... Ed, you were a child. I couldn't come out and say, 'Greetings, everyone! Your new Fuhrer is in love with a child!' I would've been ostracised, not to mention locked up. But you're... well, not a child anymore," he explained, face still uncharacteristically red. "But I can't... even then, I can't stop feeling guilty about it now. You clearly don't feel the same way, and I don't want you to think you have to respond a certain way just because I'm your superior, and-"

"Roy-"

"And I know you say you're not drunk, but you're still influenced. I shouldn't have said anything, but you asked and I just-"

"Roy-"

"I couldn't look at you and tell you I felt nothing. I can't do that anymore. If you want, I can-"

"Roy-"

"I can, uh, stop talking. I should stop talking, really, who am I kidding? You might be sixteen now but you're still a child, right? And it's wrong of me to try to-"

Ed stalked towards him and shut him up the only way he knew how.

"What was that for?" Mustang asked, rubbing the fresh pain away from the sharp punch Ed had delivered to him.

"To shut you the fuck up so I can get a word in edgeways. I thought I was the anxious freak," Ed smirks, recognising the lack of space between them. He took a step back and paused for a second before continuing, taking in Mustang's expression.  _He looks fucking terrified._ "I don't care that you're my superior, and neither would anyone else. I'm sixteen, and I'm not the sort of person to care about other people's opinions."

"But you're-"

"Yes, Roy, I have drunk alcohol. But I'm not fucking stupid and I'm not a fucking child," Ed interrupted, beginning to feel a rise in anger and frustration.  _Why won't he just fucking understand what I can't seem to tell him?_

Mustang blinked and broke eye contact, looking down at his hands as he starts to peel off his gloves. "Edward-"

"Ed, Roy. Call me Ed. If you're in love with me you could at least call me the right name. I am for you," he cut in again, earning a nervous smile.

"Ed," Mustang muttered, smiling wider. "It does suit you." He coughs, lifting the hand not still gloved to push his now-dry hair out of his face. "Look, Ed, I'm willing to ignore this whole conversation if you feel... uncomfortable. And if you want me to take you to Al so you don't have to stay here, I will. The last thing I want is for you to feel threatened with me here, I know I'm older than you and I'm..." He coughs, smiling slightly. "I'm stood shirtless declaring my love to you, so there's not much to do without getting dressed to pretend this never happened. But I'm willing to try and move on if you don't feel the same, or if you don't want to deal with me and my issues. And I do... I love you, Ed, but I do want to give you your space if you-"

Ed rolled his eyes and lifted his hand to Mustang's hair, threading his fingers and tugging his face towards his. "Shut up and kiss me, Roy," he whispers in his ear, ignoring the fact that he has to stand on tiptoes in order to reach. Pulling away slightly to read his eyes, he awaits a response.

Mustang grins and grips the collar of Ed's shirt to press their lips together. Ed immediately pulls away and spreads a hand out across his bare chest. "For someone who practices flame alchemy, you're fucking cold," he grins, earning a low chuckle. "Warm yourself up and I'll kiss you again."

"I'll be honest," Mustang says, pulling his other glove back on slowly and precisely whilst holding eye contact. "I wasn't even sure if you were gay or not. That was half my worry."

"I'm not," Ed answers, watching intently as he clicked his fingers and they started to steam again, holding one hand out to Ed so he could recognise the heat. "I'm bi. I had a massive crush on you for years but I was fucking sure you were straight." He smiles when Mustang's eyes widen in surprise.

"Well," he replies, holding one warm hand to his own face. "I just won a bet."

Ed frowned and stepped away. "A bet?"

"Hawkeye was certain you were straight. Breda and Havoc insisted you were gay. A bet seemed obvious," he smirked, flinching at an accidental flare of fire. "I bet them 500 cenz that you were bi, so... thanks."

Ed snorted in laughter before staggering a little, gripping Mustang's arm for support. "Okay, I might still be a little drunk. Can we go to bed?"

Mustang froze and the steam stopped. "What?"

"To sleep. Pervert."

He relaxed and pulled his gloves off, dropping them to the floor beside Ed's jacket. "It's not my fault you insist on acting older than you are and then ask to go to bed with me. But I'm glad. I'm too tired to hold off a horny Edward Elric."

"That's your age, Fuhrer. And you know full well you'd hold on tight to a horny Ed," he replied smirking as he was pulled back into a kiss.

Their lips pressed together with a gentle hunger, and as Mustang nibbled the edge of Ed's bottom lip he gained entry and their tongues battled for dominance.

By the time Mustang had pulled away, Ed had run out of breath and was suddenly aware of his urge to yawn. "Let's sleep, Edward."

"And then tomorrow, I'll win win you some money," Ed answered with a laugh.

 


End file.
